


My Blood

by ezwra



Series: angst prompt fills [3]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Grand Theft Auto Setting, Fake AH Crew, M/M, Making Up, this is just me being sleepy and wanting Gentle Mavin Touching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-08
Updated: 2019-08-08
Packaged: 2020-08-11 19:36:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20158960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ezwra/pseuds/ezwra
Summary: You can't get to them unless you get through meYou fuck with them you fuck with meFamily - Mother Mother





	My Blood

**Author's Note:**

> Character A tilting Character B’s chin up to get a better look at their face and the evidence of the fight. A delicately thumbs away the streak of blood by B’s mouth, saying nothing as they examine it. After a brief pause, B’s heart skips a nervous beat as A looks them dead in the eyes. Their voice is quiet and tense, their anger barely restrained.
> 
> “Who did this to you?”

Gavin is trying to sneak into the penthouse without disturbing anyone, the sun having sunk well below the horizon and the orange smog now covering any hint of stars in the los santos streets. His hands cradle his ribs gently and he's constantly wiping his bleeding nose on the bottom of his white shirt ( _ white shirt! _ The stains will never come out, that’s the main thought in the back of Gavin’s mind instead of the fact that he was just  _ mugged _ and his phone and wallet are essentially lost to the void).

He gently presses the door shut behind himself with a quiet  _ click _ , fingers lingering on the door handle after he slowly lets it rise back up. He takes a few steps inside and looks into the living room, sighing in relief when he sees that Michael isn't-

“Hey,” Michael says, his voice quiet and coming from the kitchen, “that you, Gav?”

Gavin winces and grits his teeth, pressing the tips of his fingers into a tender bruise blooming along his side, “um… yeah.”

After a particularly bad fight between them both, including the embarrassment of being viewed by the rest of the crew during the fight and being the one to finally break and leave (especially with what happened after), Gavin doesn't particularly want to talk to Michael right now. So, in a valiant attempt to keep his dignity, Gavin walks towards his room with his head down quickly pushing his way in and shutting it.

The room is pitch black, the bed is unmade and there’s a pile of clothes on the chair in the corner ( _ Michael’s _ chair, that he likes to sit on when he’s reading, or when he’s just chatting with Gavin and waiting for him to finish getting ready in the morning) from when he was picking an outfit that morning. He pulls out the small chair in front of his desk space, which is covered in a mix and match of pieces of tech, some make up items, and a poorly hidden bong.

He’s given a few minutes of peace, in which Gavin manages to clean most of his face apart from a tricky cut on his lip that refuses to stop bleeding, especially when he opens his mouth or even winces slightly. But then there’s a knock at the door, and Gavin knows who it is.

“Gav, can I come in?”

Gavin frowns softly and hesitates before shutting his curtains and standing, walking over to the door and pulling it open slowly so he can stay in the shadows, “what, Michael?”

Michael looks so sad, the type of sad you only really see on tiny puppies, his eyes are big and his hair is messy like he’s been running his hands through it, “where have you been?” he steps into the room, pulling at his fingers and cracking his knuckles quietly, “wait, no, um…” he frowns more, turning back around to face Gavin, “i'm sorry, that’s the first and only thing I should be saying. I'm really fucking sorry.”

Gavin closes the door slowly, sighing once more, “it’s fine, Michael. Don't worry about it.”

“It is nowhere  _ near _ fine, Gavin,” Michael steps forwards, seeming to pause before lifting his hands and placing them on Gavin’s face. They’re warm, and they're calloused, but Gavin missed them over the short time he was out of the penthouse because they’re so inherently  _ Michael _ that there’s no reason for him to not relax, leaning into their gentle cradle, “Gav… have you been crying?”

Gavin lets out a strained  _ wot? _ and reels back quickly, wiping at where Michael was touching until the few marks of blood he missed are gone, then wiping at his chin to clean that blood again, “no, Michael, i… I haven't been crying.”

“Why’s your face wet?” the tender worry picks at Gavin’s heart, “turn the lights on.”

Gavin panics, “Michael, y-you know the overhead light doesn't work, Michael,” an unfortunate event including a lads night, too much alcohol, and a gun or two pointing at the ceiling; Michael doesn't seem to care, though.

“The fairy lights, Gavin.” he says.

Gavin wrings his hands together and frowns heavily, slowly making his way over to the extension cord on his bedside table and plugging in the fluffy white lights that are strung up on his wall. They glow gently, and Gavin fiddles with the wires.

“Look at me.”

He groans softly and tugs at the limp strands of his own hair before turning around, frowning heavily. He can feel the cut on his lip bleed more, and the way he turned aggravated his ribs to hell and back, but he keeps his eyes locked on Michael’s and refuses to back down, “what, Michael? What do you want?”   


Michael seems to power down for a few seconds, face going blank and eyes going partially lidded. Gavin watches as he steps closer and closer, until their chests are only inches apart. One of his hands slowly reaches up again, and Michael’s thumb presses against the cut to wipe away some of the blood. Gavin looks away with a heavy frown, but he can see Michael staring at the purple and green bruises in the corner of his eye.

“Who did this to you?” Michael says, ice and ire lacing each word, “tell me.”

Gavin shrugs, “No one, I don't know.” he slowly leans his head back into Michael’s palm, swallowing lightly, “I didn't see their face, they took my stuff.”

“Fucking hell,” Michael whispers, “you…  _ fuck _ .”

Gavin grits his teeth and steps away, walking back to the desk and picking up a wad of tissues he was using earlier, “i know. Dumb, stupid Gavin, righ?” he wipes at his mouth, frowning more. The fight is still fresh in his mind, and he can't resist the urge to press on the memory like a bruise (Michael was mad, as usual, at Gavin,  _ as usual _ , for being reckless on one of his deals. He wasn't even  _ there _ , but Ryan had narked to his boyfriend and suddenly it had become the current  _ thing _ to bring up between them both, until Gavin snapped and then they were fighting and saying things that weren’t true).

“No, Gav,” Michael steps forwards, “this wasn't your fault, it's mine. I shouldn't have… I shouldn't have said what I did, and it's my fault that you left and you got  _ hurt… _ ” his voice cracks pitifully on the last word and Gavin grips the back of the desk chair, “are you… are you hurt anywhere else? Can I help you?”

He turns his head away and thinks for a few moments;  _ no _ would mean that Michael leaves, and they can handle this in the morning or at any later date that Gavin can push it to, but  _ yes _ means that he stays, and they talk, and maybe they can cuddle in bed for a bit cause Gavin’s just too fucking  _ tired _ to deal with anymore of this for the night.

“Yeah,” he says weakly, “can you, uh, grab some ice packs for me?”

Michael nods immediately and leaves the room. Gavin sits down on the desk chair and leans back to rest his ribs, pressing his fingers over his eyes. He must drift off while he’s waiting because, suddenly, Michael’s back and gently peeling his hands away.

“Stand up, dude,” Michael says, gently linking their fingers, “get your shirt off.”

Gavin lets out a weak giggle, mostly using Michael to pull himself up, “take me out for dinner first, love.” he slowly starts to unbutton his shirt, watching as Michael moves the clothes from the chair to the bed.

“Damn, you need me to wine and dine you?” Michael laughs.

Gavin giggles again, dropping his shirt down and easing himself into the new seat, “maybe. It would be nice, every once in a while.”

“i can do that, i’ll take you to a fuckin’ McDonalds and get you a burger and some iced tea, i can show you a good time.” Michael grins and pulls the other chair over, grabbing the pile of ice packs from the desk along with some bandage tape before taking a seat. Gavin simply laughs more, covering his mouth a little to muffle the sound, before wincing for a  _ multitude _ of reasons. Michael looks a little upset at this, and he adjusts his glasses, “sorry.”

Gavin tilts his head and reaches out a hand for one of the ice packs, “Don't apologise for making me laugh, Michael.”

“I will if it hurts you,” Gavin blushes bright when Michael slides their hands together instead, reaching over to gently press the ice pack down himself, “I'm sorry this happened.”

Gavin winces and presses his other hand against the pack, “i said its fine, Michael, it’s okay.” he leans down and kisses Michael’s knuckles softly.

They sit together for a while, listening to the traffic outside. After nearly ten minutes, Michael takes the ice pack away and slowly prods along Gavin’s ribs, feeling for any breaks. Their close proximity makes Gavin blush, and he’s desperate for the comfort of his bed and a tight hug, but he knows he’s too tender right now.

“Go get some sleep, Michael,” he mutters softly, kissing the bare column of Michael’s neck, “it’s late, and its been… it’s been a day.”

Michael laughs quietly, “yeah, it certainly has.” he sits back slowly, and they look eat each other for a few moments, “I don't wanna leave you.”

“It’s fine, love,” Gavin leans forwards and presses their heads together, “I'll be right next door, and you can come get me if you need me.”

“This is…” Michael laughs weakly, “I should be saying this shit to you, not the other way around.”

Gavin shrugs and sits back again, “so? I know you need the comfort more than i do, you’ve got your sleepy face on, and you worry too much.”

The other man laughs and nods slowly, rubbing his jaw, “yeah, okay…” he pulls a face before pressing a soft kiss to Gavin’s jaw, “i love you. You know that, right?”

Gavin smiles and nods slowly, “i know, Michael. I love you too, always have and always will.”

**Author's Note:**

> dude ive got like... 3 wips that might be finished soon big hype (also couldnt find a good song for this one cause im dummy thicc)


End file.
